You Think I'm Dead
by RacconEyesBlueSkies
Summary: Tim McGee is forced to go into Witness Protection; everyone except for his immediate family & Gibbs believe that he is dead. . . how does it affect the team? McAbby, and all completed:
1. Here I Stand

"Here I Stand"

It all started when he caught that son-of-a-bitch serial killer, Andrew Johnson. Gibbs had assigned Ziva to the shift, but she had gotten sick, so he had covered for her. The stakeout outside the warehouse had been three weeks of nothing except serious boredom. There was little to do but watch the leaves fall around the abandoned storehouse.

Then, all of a sudden, the door flew open. A dark-skinned brunette male, around 35 years old. _Unarmed._

God, there he was! The agent whipped out his cell, hit speed dial 3. Nearly screamed in anticipation. Pick up the phone already!

"_Gibbs."_

"Boss, I've got a visual on Johnson. North exit of the warehouse, alone. There's evidence of another girl inside. There's blood on his hands."

"_Most likely Amanda Ellers' body. Take him into custody, McGee. Don't hold back. I want this SOB."_

"On it Boss."

He jumped into action. God, why hadn't he insisted on someone coming with him? Oh well, no time for regrets. He opened the car door, closed it silently. Crouching down, hecrept up behind him. One more step, & Johnson was his.

_Crack!_

Johnson swirled around at the sound of the footstep on the dry leaves.

"Freeze! Federal Agent! Hands on your head, Johnson!"

The man laughed.

"What are you going to do, shoot me? Come on, Agent McGee, we both know you don't have enough backbone for that."

He froze. How did the piece of shit know him?

He read his face. "I've done a background check on all of the NCIS agents on my case, Timothy. And frankly, you seem to be the weakest. But what do I know? Amanda's body is inside, I think you'll find her quite easily. Just follow the blood," he chuckled.

McGee was getting pissed. Johnson thought he was _weak_?

"Come on, Timothy. I'm standing right here. Do it."

He tackled him, yanked the cuffs on the killers' wrists.

"I'm not gonna shoot you, Johnson. I'm going to watch you rot in jail."


	2. Fall Away

"Fall Away"

Gibbs walked solemnly into the bullpen. Tony was throwing paper balls at McGee while Ziva was munching on a sandwich. Having caught Johnson, they were enjoying the free time.

"McGee, my office, now."

The agent popped up, almost stumbling as he walked to the elevator. Tony chuckled at his clumsiness.

He stepped into the elevator. Gibbs' face was grave. McGee immediately tensed. What had happened? What was so bad that he had to tell him alone?

"McGee." He began, then sighed. How was he going to say this? "_Tim_,"

_Uh-oh._ McGee thought. _This must be bad. Did someone die? Am I getting fired for hesitating to cuff Johnson?_

"What is it, Boss?"

Gibbs grimaced. "A buddy of Johnson's sent a letter today."

McGee waited.

"There's a threat on your life. They sent cyanide to your apartment. I had people swipe it down."

He reeled. He was getting death-threats? But, they'd catch them, right? What was wrong, then?

"Boss, I don't understand. What's going to happen?"

Gibbs finally just broke. "You're going to die."

"_What?_"

"Welcome to Witness Protection."

Silence flew by. He couldn't think. So what, he was going to be dead to everyone now?

"Tonight, you will be assigned a new identity. You're going to head home after you get out of the elevator. You'll call Tony, tell him I gave you the rest of the day off. Then, you will hang up the phone, & never call back. Everyone will be under the belief that you died in a car crash on the way home."

"But. . No, I'm not. . . I can't be. . ." McGee couldn't take it in.

"I'm sorry, Tim, but there's nothing I can do. Johnson's friends are untraceable. We can't find them, & they won't stop until you are dead.," He pulled out a card, slipped it into McGee's coat pocket. "Go to this address, they'll tell you the details. Besides your immediate family, I'm the only one that's going to know you're still alive. Im sorry, Tim,"

The elevator restarted.


	3. The Walk

"The Walk"

So much had changed. He didn't even recognize himself anymore.

He thought about Tony as they gave him his new passport & address. _Aiden Holland._ He would have teased him relentlessly about the name. Every time he was called Aiden, he thought about Tony's chuckles.

He thought about Ziva as they told him about his new life. He was going to be a manager at a local computer company, living on wages from his _Deep Six_ novels. He would get complete self defense training. Every time he fought back, he remembered her expertise.

He thought about Ducky when he walked into his house. It was traditional, timeless. Built in the early 1900's, it was furnished with beautiful, basic pieces. Every time he opened the door, he remembered Ducky's timeless smile.

He thought about Gibbs when he got his car. It was solid, sturdy, dark brown. Every time he rode, he remembered the time he spilled his coffee, & when he eventually forgave him.

But most of all, he remembered Abby. They had dyed his hair black, given him colored contacts. When he looked in the mirror, he remembered all the times she had complimented his green eyes, ran her fingers through his blonde hair. He thought about all the times she had looked at him, caught him staring. He thought about her laughs.

Every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the woman he loved, & how he would never get to see her again. How he would never be able to tell her how he felt about her. How he would never be able to marry her.


	4. Candleburn

"Candleburn"

He had called them all into an interrogation room. Tony was joking with Ziva about how McGee was missing the "big mission", as he guessed the meting was about. But he know this wasn't about a case when he saw Abby there as well. They all looked confused.

"Boss," Tony started. "What's going o-"

Gibbs' face stopped him. They all grew silent at the pain in his face. Ziva was the one to break the minute of silence. "What happened?"

His voice was soft, a rare occasion. Nobody was prepared for what he said.

"McGee is dead."

Abby gasped, tears beginning to blur her vision. Ziva collapsed into the chair. Tony stumbled backwards, like he had been punched. Gibbs stood motionless.

Tony was the first to recover. "Oh God, Boss." Tony looked down. Probie was dead? How the hell could this be happening?

"His car slid on some oil on the way home last night. Crashed into a power line. Died on impact." Abby let out a pained sob. Ziva bent down to where she was sitting pn the ground, pulled her into a hurt embrace as Abby shook.

"His funeral is in two days. You don't have to come, but he probably would have wanted you there. . ." He couldn't take anymore. He walked out of the room, leaving his team to grieve for their loss. He pulled out his phone.

"_Holland Residence,_"

"I told them, McGee,"

"_Oh. . How. . . are they alright?"_

"You're dead, Tim. It doesn't really matter."

He hung up.


	5. Never Alone

"Never Alone"

Abby felt dead. She sat in the dark, beer in hand. She had thrown a blanket over the coffin. She couldn't look at it without seeing Tim: lifeless, dead, and pale. . .

God, how could this have happened? Tim was such a safe driver. He had always been on the lookout for problems on the road, but he failed to notice an oil puddle on the middle of the road? She could see it, though. He was driving; his hands on the steering wheel, listening to his black iPod, thinking about something or another, when he saw the blackness, a moment too late . . . slid along the road, the power line coming closer and closer until finally-

"_NO!_" Abby screamed. She needed to stop thinking things like that. Gibbs had said he died instantly, that he probably hadn't felt any pain at all. Just fear . . .then nothing.

God, when would the thoughts stop? Her wonderful, beautiful, perfect Timmy was dead. How could she ever focus on anything ever again? There was nothing left for her to do but just grieve . . . but how long would she have, before she needed to get back to work, & focus on peoples' deaths . . .

No, she couldn't take this. She grabbed her cell off her dresser, pressed speed dial 1.

"_Just head on over, Abby."_

Thank God for Gibbs.


	6. Broken

"Broken"

Tony & Ziva sat quietly at their desks, waiting for Abby to come up from her lab, so they could leave for McGee's funeral. They heard her soft footsteps, but didn't recognize her. Tony couldn't believe it.

"Abby, are you wearing _purple_?" Ziva joined in then, "To a _funeral_?" Abby looked down.

"Timmy said it was his favorite color on me. He said that dark purple made me look beautiful." She choked on the last word.

Ziva enveloped her in an embrace. She knew this would be hard for Abby, but she had forgotten how close they were. In fact, Ziva knew that Abby had been in love with Tim, though she hadn't realized it herself yet. McGee hadn't exactly been good at hiding his feelings, and every time Abby had talked about another man, Ziva had seen the pain in his eyes. If only Abby had seen it . . . before it was too late; before now.

Tony & Ziva led Abby to the car; they had decided to all ride together. Gibbs had passed on the offer, he wasn't even attending the funeral. He'd said he had been to a colleague's funeral one too many times, & that McGee would be remembered regardless if he attended or not. Abby hadn't been to keen on the idea, but she was really to broken to care.

They rode in silence, Ziva in shotgun while Tony drove. Abby sat -head down- in the back seat. When they arrived, she stepped quietly out of the car, observing the scene. Abby choked up when she saw the coffin. Tony grabbed her shoulder, lead her to their seats. McGee's parents were in the front row, other colleagues & friends scattered throughout.

He had written in his will that he wanted an outdoor funeral. The sun shone down upon Abby's face as she looked at the Minister. She wasn't really listening, though; she could barely focus on staying upright.

Tony nudged her. The Minister had paused.

"We will all miss Tim, but we are here to celebrate his life, not his passing. Is there anyone that would like to say a few words?"

Nobody moved for the next few minutes.

Suddenly, she felt movement next to her. Tony had rose from his seat, walked up to the front. He took a deep breath, then began to heal.

"Timothy McGee will always -in my heart- be Probie. I always teased him, played pranks on him, but he always had a jest back. He was strong-willed, really stubborn, and completely lovable. He was pretty much my best friend. . ." He trailed off for a moment.

"Probie, wherever you are, just remember that noone else will ever take your place. You're always gonna be my best friend, & everything-but-bloodbrother. Love you, McGeek."

He descended from his place, passing Ziva as she was o her way up.

"Tim taught me much about life. Although people considered me a more experienced Agent, he was definitely more experienced at being a _human being_," she chuckled softly. "Tim was always kind, always open to talk if you needed a friend. He was must more than a colleague to all of us. As Tony said, he was like our brother. I'll miss you, Tim. We all will."

Ziva walked slowly bak to her seat next to Abby. It was silent for a few moments, then some of Tim's old MIT friends said a few words. None of their words struck Abby. She was currently having an internal battle; should she finally tell Timmy the truth?


	7. Hundred

"Hundred"

Tim had sat silently, motionlessly as his friends & family spoke about him. His sister & parents knew he was there, of course, and they had been acting pretty realistic. He spoke to them the night before. . . but all these people really believe he was dead. Hell, Tony & Ziva considered him a brother. . .

He couldn't deal with this, but he knew that he needed to face this. Nobody noticed the black-haired mourner in the back row.

Then, suddenly, Tim noticed Abby. He nearly stood, nearly rushed to her, nearly screamed out her name. She was wearing a deep purple dress, and she was beautiful. But she was headed to the podium, & he couldn't bear to interrupt. He needed to know the truth.


	8. Goodbye Again

"Goodbye Again"

Abby took a deep breath, prepared herself. She looked up at the crowd, all these people loved Tim. As did she.

"Timmy was the most amazing person that I have ever met in my entire life. We dated for about a year, but I broke it off, told him goodbye. When he got a permanent job at NCIS, I'll admit that I was pretty ecstatic. Although I tried to never show it, I always looked forward to the times he'd visit my lab & help me catch some bad guys. We worked together amazingly- I swear there's nobody we couldn't catch!" she chuckled, then tried to hold in a sob.

"We went through so much together. One time, I was almost killed on a case . . . Tim saved me; that was the night he let it slip that he loved me. I didn't take it very well. Once again, I said goodbye.

"I was accused of committing treason as a cover once. . . Tim was the one who looked out for me. He didn't know it was a hoax, and he visited me, got me to spill my guts. He kissed me on the cheek. . ." She lifted her hand to her right cheek, remembering the kiss.

After a moment, she felt she could continue.

"Every time he was on a case, I was worried he would get hurt; that some sicko would take my Timmy away from me. I never expected this. . . I never got to tell him.

"So that's why I'm here, at your funeral, Timmy. I know you're up there, watching over me. I just want you to know that I love you. I love you with every fiber of my being, & there will never be a day that I don't think about you. I am going to miss every second of every day. I love you, Timmy

"So, I guess this is goodbye, again."

She stepped down from the podium. There was only silence.


	9. Radiate

"Radiate"

Oh, God. She loved him. She _loved_ him. & there wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop her pain.

Tim stood, walked swiftly away from his funeral. He could not be around this anymore. He ran to his car, eyes streaming. His hands shook so hard, he couldn't open his car door. He sunk down, leaned back against the vehicle. He shook with the silent sobs, his brain screaming Abby's name.

Someone tapped his shoulder.

Gibbs helped him into a standing position, brushed off his shoulders.

"McGee, you shouldn't be here," he said quietly. He knew that Tim had harbored feelings for Abby, but he hadn't known that he was in love with her. God, this was a mess. Hearing that from Abby had broken Tim down so hard he couldn't even speak.

"McGee-"

"My name isn't McGee anymore, Gibbs! It's goddamn_ Aiden Hollard_! I don't believe I even know who I am anymore, let alone what I'm going to do with my life. It was probably better if Johnson's buddies had finished me off earlier, rather than sending me off under a new name, hurting all the people I love. Look what it's done to Abby! I've destroyed her! Why the hell do I deserve to be here?"

Gibbs had finally been shocked into silence. McGee had his heart broken in two; he didn't know how to fix this. What could he tell him? _Just get over it_ wouldn't suffice.

He took a step back as Tim opened his car door, brushing the tears from his face.

"I can't do this anymore, Gibbs. I am so completely done."

"Tim, you are not free until Johnson's two friends are dead,"

Fire burned in Tim's eyes. "Then give me their addresses & a gun."

He was unnerved at McGee's hostility. "We don't know who they are, Tim, we've only got their names. James Barker and Carter Millson. Everything else is a mystery. I'm sorry, McGee, but there's nothing else we can do. And you better get out of here before somebody recognizes you."

Gibbs watched the coffee-brown car speed away and tried harder than ever to see the light at the end of the tunnel. He couldn't find one.


	10. Straightjacket Feeling

"Straightjacket Feeling"

Tim continued to drive. He hated how quiet it was; he increased the speed of the car. Usually slow and steady driver, he couldn't help but be exhilarated at the 70-miles-per-hour speed he was pushing. He banged the radio's "on" button with the back of his hand and cranked it up as far as it would go. _Anything_ to drown out the silence.

In truth, he was just testing the police's backbone. He was daring them to pull him over. He wanted to stare them in the eye and see what it was like to sit on the other side of the interrogation table. He just _dared _them to try.

God, why was it so quiet?! He couldn't take this; he took a right turn and found himself outside a pancake house. Slamming his car door behind him, he turned his back against the cold as he walked to the door.

It was rather warm inside, so Tim started peeling off his gloves as he sat down at the bar in the back. The blonde behind the counter had on a -rather short- dress with a name-tag presenting herself as Shirley. She winked at him as she walked over.

"What can I get for you, sir?"

"A Jack Daniels please," Shirley nodded and grabbed a bottle. She was pretty, he guessed, but something just didn't seem right about her. She was too normal, she was too polished, and she was too . . .

Hell, who was he kidding? She just wasn't _Abby_.

She slipped a napkin on the counter and set the bottle on top before turning her attention to another customer. He took a drink and tried to clear his head. Then, he noticed something scribbled on the napkin. . . a number?

_**Whatcha all dressed up for? Call me sometime.**_

Tim smiled. Tony would have a field day with this! He'd be teasing him for the next few _years_.

Except for the fact that he would never see Tony again.

Hastily, he finished his beer and stood. He left a tip on the counter, as well as the napkin. He couldn't deal with calling this girl, telling her his name was Aiden, living a lie. God, could they have given him a worse name? He chewed on the thought as he stomped out of the restaurant and to his car.

This time, his radio spilled out a soft guitar. He closed his eyes before revving the engine. It took an hour to drive to his new home. An hour to be alone with his thoughts. An hour to deal with his grief before he had to go back to being "Aiden".

The whole ride home, his head was buzzing.

* * * * *

Tim threw his grey wool coat on the floor before peeling his hazel contacts off his eyes. He changed into a pair of sweats and walked downstairs. It was weird, owning a house. It was so open, free, and a little bit lonely. As he closed the window curtains, he noticed a flashing on his living room: his answering machine.

He sighed and hit "PLAY". A happy-go-lucky voice spilled out of the machine.

"Hey, Thom, it's you editors! We need the final draft of _Rock Hollow_ by next Saturday, alright? I got a call saying you couldn't do any interviews or anything in person; are you sick or something? Anyways, we hired a publicist for this book. Her name's Karen, she'll do fine, don't you worry. Can't wait for the next novel, Thom!" ***BEEP***

His _book_? That had been the absolute last thing on his mind! What, so he was allowed to write under a pseudonym, but he wasn't allowed to talk about it, or meet with anyone? This was ridiculous. . .

Well, the NCIS team knew he'd finished his book; they'd probably think that he'd turned in the final copy before he'd "died".

Great, now he'd have to reread his book. . . his relationship with all the NCIS members. Relive all the pain, the rejection. Reread the ending, where Amy tells McGreggor that they are "all wrong for each other". Great.

But he couldn't do that. He couldn't relive that ending, not again. He'd have to relive everything. . . the life that was stolen from him. . .


	11. Everything You Ever Wanted and Hush

"Everything You Ever Wanted"

Abby had shut herself in her lab. She was sitting in her chair, glaring aimlessly at her computer, clinging to Bert the Hippo & clutching a Caf-Pow. Gibbs had tried to drag her out, but she locked her lab door. Once she heard the clacking (a telltale sign of lock-picking), she retreated into her back room, disabled the motion censor, & plopped down onto her red futon.

Gibbs finally made his way in, only to find the sad sight of his usually-perky forensic scientist wallowing in depression. He silently recalled her last words to Tim. He'd known that McGee had been in love with her, but he'd always thought that she hadn't reciprocated. He had been wrong; very wrong.

What she would have given to know his secret, Gibbs would never know. Abby would never know that the black-haired gentleman in the back row had been broken-hearted when she had given her speech . . . that his hazel-glazed eyes had followed her every move.

Gibbs sighed heavily. He was willing himself to go see her; she was like a daughter to him. He wanted to comfort her, but there was nothing that he could say- nothing that Witness protection would let him reveal, that would un-break her.

A chill ran through her. She was freezing; she'd forgotten an extra blanket. Her Caf-Pow wasn't as sweet as usual . . . to tell the truth, nothing really tasted sweet anymore.

God, why had she even gone to the funeral? She had told herself over & over that it wouldn't help heal the pain. . .

To tell the truth, she'd just wanted to see him one last time.

On a sudden impulse, she fixed her motion censor and darted out of her lab. She flew past Tony & Ziva walking down the hallway, flew past Palmer coming out of Autopsy, and darted into the bullpen, nearly knocking over Gibbs.

"Oh, sorry, Gibbs!" she blurted.

"It's alright, Abbs. What's the emergency, anyway?"

"I need you to drive me somewhere, I didn't take my car today,"

". . . Where?"

She clammed up. How could she tell him? He'd just say that it was a bad idea, or that she would only mess herself up more. Or he'd give her some old cold case to keep her busy. . .

But he spoke before she could.

"Get Tony to take you, Abby. I wouldn't feel right doing that."

Thank God, he understood.

"Hush"

The ride there was completely silent. Tony had started to protest, but when he looked at the pain in her eyes, he gave in. She kept fidgeting nervously as he pulled into the lot. She cracked open her door before he could fully stop the car; she jumped out & ran inside.

She took the stairs two at a time, grabbing the key out of her back pocket as she ran. Her hands shook so hard she could barely unlock the door. But, slowly, the lock clicked, letting her inside.

Oh, God, it still looked the same as it had the last time she'd been there. Taking a few steps, she left the door open in case Tony wanted to come, too. Though she doubted it.

Tim's apartment was pretty tidy; not many things were out of their normal order. The typewriter sat quietly on his desk next to a finished draft of _Rock Hollow_. His bathroom still had the silly monkey curtains, and his mirror was still shining brightly. She looked away when she saw her own face; pale, drained, dead.

She walked a few more paces before stopping. She gripped the doorframe tightly, her knuckled turning white. She blinked back the inevitable tears and walked the last few steps into Tim's bedroom.

The covers were flung back. He must have gotten right up when his alarm want off. The pillow still had the indention where he had laid. She could imagine him here. In his room, he was warm, calm, happy, and _alive_.

She fall onto his bed, sobbing. She laid her head onto his pillow, feeling where he had been. His room smelled like him, too. God, she missed that smell. She remembered it from when he had hugged her the afternoon before he left . . . she remembered trying to decide whether or not to just kiss him right there and then.

A knock interrupted her thoughts. Tony shuffled in, head down.

"We should leave, Abby. I feel like we're invading Probie's space." He said quietly.

She sniffed and nodded, lifting herself off of the mattress. She walked over to his dresser & peeled two shirts out, tucking them under her arm.

"That's what I came for, anyway. I've been having trouble sleeping . . . these should help."

Tony led her out of the apartment, but he didn't protest when she grabbed _Rock Hollow_ off of his desk.

"It's just a bedtime story, Tony," she whispered.

He nodded silently. He led her to the door, shutting Tim McGee's life behind it.


	12. 45

"45"

Abby showed up for work the next day wearing Tim's blue oxford shirt & her black pants. Gibbs noted her blank, dead stare, but said nothing. Tony & Ziva had wanted to go after her, but he had told them no. She needed her time to heal.

Abby entered her lab, dropping off her stuff into a chair in her back room. She flung herself into the latest case, trying to get rid of the buzzing in her head. But no sooner had she started then her lunch break arrived.

She shut her door before pulling it out of her bag. She read the summery on the second printed piece of paper.

_Rock Hollow: The latest book by renowned author Thom E. Gemcity follows the continuing cases of L.J. Tibbs & his team of agents. When a strange case pops up, it's up to the young probationary officer Toby McGreggor to save a team member from a brutal death._

She hadn't realized how tightly she was gripping the pages until she noticed her knuckles were colorless. She had to read this, and quick. She needed to know what he had written about her in his last piece. She needed to see what had happened through Tim's eyes.

Running back into her room, she sat down on her futon and began to read.

* * *

Gibbs knew where she was, & Tony had informed him of what exactly she was doing. At first, he was pissed that he had let her get a hold of those papers. Then, he had realized that she probably would have gotten them one way or another, & it was best that she dealt with this with her friends around to comfort her.

He had sent Ziva down to look at her, but all she reported was that she seemed to be flying through the book & that- though it was nearing ten thirty- Abby refused to leave anytime soon. Gibbs silently wondered what she had found within the pages . . .

She had been reading for nearly ten hours straight, and she was nearing the end of his book. She had heard much of the conversations before, during a case she had personally lived through. When that psycho fan Landon had tried to kill her, Tim had come to her rescue, just as Toby did with Amy in the book. And Abby had silently been hoping that the last conversation they had had that night wouldn't pop up in the print, there was not avoiding the inevitable.

_"We need to talk," Amy sighed heavily, pulling out of Tibbs' fatherly embrace. Toby stepped forward, apologies spilling out of his mouth._

_"God, Amy I'm so sorry, I never meant-" But she interrupted his pained defense._

_"We can't get married, Toby," She said firmly. "We're all wrong for each other." _

_His heart snapped in two, and he felt the blood thumping in his ears. He was certain he had heard her wrong; she loved him, right? In a second, she would laugh and say that she was joking, and that she loved him as much as he loved her. Right?_

_Wrong._

_She was serious. Her usually bright eyes were dark and hard, no sign of laughter to be seen._

_He felt dead inside._

Oh, God, what had she done to him? She had only said that because she didn't want to lead him on . . . she'd never meant to break him so badly! She hadn't realized that he had loved her so much, that she had wasted something so beautiful. They could have been happy together, and she had thrown it way. And she would never be able to get that back.

Who else would read this, and know what she had done to him? The guilt was unbearable. She was so ashamed, so mortified. She cried once more, before getting to the tough part.

* * *

Gibbs walked into Abby's lab silently. He found her shredding a pile of papers, sobbing quietly the entire time.


	13. The Freshmen

"The Freshmen"

Two months passed in pained, awful silence. Nobody spoke of Tim, and nobody looked at his empty desk. Gibbs finally hired a new team member named Bobby Hersh. He had hair that was always coiffed, and he always spoke with a haughty sir about him. He, like McGee, had gone to M.I.T. But he, unlike Tim, was insanely smug about it. He smirked at Tony when he asked a question about technology.

Tony kind of wanted to shoot him sometimes.

Ziva wasn't very keen on him either. She'd grown accustomed to Tim's quiet admiration and humble attitude toward her. She felt like she might have take that for granted, as Hersh was a nightmare. He was unimpressed with everything that she did, be it capturing a murderer, or getting lunch from a local take-out. If he put even the slightest input in, he took all the credit.

She kind of wanted to shoot him, too.

Even Gibbs had expressed some dislike of the computer genius. He didn't completely trust him to look after his two other agents, and he doubted that he could fill McGee's shoes.

But the real issue was Abby.

The first day, she had tried to welcome him, but immediately realized that he was a jerk. The following few weeks, she had attempted to be civil, but soon grew to simply ignoring him. Whenever he was assigned to help her, she would coldly order him around, while doing most of the work herself. He made a habit of yawning when she talked, , and knocked things over frequently.

But it wasn't until a day in late March, exactly five months after McGee had left, that he finally crossed the line. That Tuesday found Abby screaming bloody murder in the bullpen.

"GIBBS!" she screeched. "HE DRANK MY CAF-POW!"

Ok, Gibbs wanted to shoot him as well.

* * *

"Hey, Scuito?"

Abby was handling evidence from the latest case, and she was currently inspecting three glass jars found in the victim's backpack. She was annoyed at being interrupted.

"What?" she answered through clenched teeth. "I'm a bit busy doing _your_ work at the moment."

Hersh just laughed. "Did you know that I graduated from M.I.T.-"

"Yes. We _all_ know." She interrupted.

"No, no," he laughed. "I mean, I graduated with McGee,"

She dropped the jar, it shattered all over the floor. Her eyes bore holes in Hersh. He smiled.

"Yeah, I figured that would happen. You don't mention him much, but you obviously were close to him, right? I can't see why though . . . He was always so boring. I guess he was smart, but nobody liked him very much. A couple of us grew to enjoy beating his sorry ass after school; he never put up much of a fight. So it's not very surprising that he drove himself into that pole . . . kid was kind of an idiot!"

Abby did the first thing that came to mind.

* * *

Two hours in passing, Gibbs got a call from Abby's lab.

"Got the results back from the jars, Boss-man!"

"On my way, Abby."

When he arrived, a strange sight greeted him.

"What the hell, Abby?"

Hersh was handcuffed, sitting in a chair, gagged with a pair of Abby's pantyhose. He was yelling muffled, incoherent words, and thrashing around. Abby had a fierce glint in her eyes, and an infuriated smile played on her lips.

"Nobody insults Timmy, Gibbs. Not while I'm around."


	14. All Around Me, Acoustic

"All Around Me- Acoustic"

It was a soft, chilly Saturday in April, and Abby was driving her hearse to a mall in Northern Virginia to buy a present for her young cousin. She parked in between an ugly brown car and a dark blue SUV, parked crookedly on her right. She opened the door carefully, avoiding the crappy parking job of the blue vehicle.

Gripping her purse, she felt a cloud of loneliness pressing upon her. She fought against the increasing pressure as she pulled open the door. She knew the dam was going to break soon. That's when she first noticed her walking toward her.

Abby ran to the nearest bathroom, knocking into various shoppers. She tried locking the door, but her hands shook too hard. She retreated into a corner, sinking down, sobbing. The girl walked into the room, then finished Abby's job of locking the door. She squatted down next to Abby, and embraced the sobbing woman. Abby clung to her. The girl let her cry for awhile.

"Abby, are you alright?" she asked softly.

"No, Sarah, I'm really not."

* * *

Tim got the text about two seconds after he lost his sister. It was short and to the point.

_Someone's here. Get the car and go home. I'll meet you._

That could only mean one thing; an NCIS member was here. He started running to the parking lot, his purchases forgotten. He pulled out his keys and ran frantically, trying to locate his car. Then, he found his car.

Parked next to a long, black hearse.

God, Abby was here? And he had to leave her, _again_? And Sarah got to see her?

It was so unfair.

He just prayed that she had completely forgotten about him. He couldn't dal with the thought that he might cause her any more pain.

* * *

They'd had a long, tearful talk. Abby had let Sarah tell her about college life, and she had let Abby talk about NCIS. They both tried not to talk about what they needed to. After sitting silently for a few minutes, Abby broke the silence.

"I can't remember the last time I've been warm, Sarah."

"I know, it's hard."

"I can't even do anything. There's not even any bad guys that I can blame, nobody to go after."

Sarah's eyes grew hard. He voice was angry and harsh.

"You can catch those two SOB's that threatened him." She hissed.

"Oh, Sarah, I've been working on that. Nonstop."

* * *

_As she falls, I try to catch her._

_For one last touch, of warmth from summer._

_As one thing leads, to become another, again._

_I remember when . . ._

Her radio played softly. She usually listened to metal, but she needed this song. It reminded her of Timmy. He had loved summertime . . .

She shook her head; she needed to stop dwelling on things like that. He was _dead_; she needed to focus on catching those two guys . . . the last people to insult him before his death. Her thoughts flew around Tim, remembering everything. His eyes; she'd never told him how much she'd loved his green eyes. They were bright, intelligent, and always watching out for her. And his smile; he'd always had this warmth in his smile. It was like his whole face lit up when he'd seen her. He was so open and kind.

And, best of all, he'd always smiled at her with such love in his eyes.

***BEEP***

Seriously, that easy? A match in under an hour? Just like that, she had them . . .

"I'll get them, Timmy, don't you worry."

She dialed speed dial 1.

"Gibbs."

"I got them! 1481, Oaken Drive. Go get them, ok? Do it for Timmy!"

She hung up.

* * *

His phone rang softly. He groped around for the call, glancing at the clock as he did so. Who could be calling at 2:27 AM? It's scream if it was a telemarketer.

"Holland residence," he mumbled sleepily.

"They're dead, Tim." Came a gruff voice.

"Gibbs?" he shot out of bed. "Who's dead? Is everyone alright? What happened?"

"The two guys, Carter & James. They resisted. We took them down."

Relief flowed in his veins. They were dead. He could return, thank God. He could rebuild his life, starting from scratch.

"So when do I go back to being McGee again?"

"Eh . . . you don't, Tim." He said gently.

"Wh- what? Why not?"

"You're dead to everyone, McGee. We can't just bring you back to life. It doesn't work that way."

He couldn't even speak.

"I'm sorry, Tim. It's the way it has to be."

He hung up before Tim could respond.

That one little spark of hope, dead so soon. He fell back against the headboard, alone again.

He felt dead.

* * *

**Authors Note: the song playing is called "Summer Again" by The Afters.**


	15. Hide

"Hide"

Abby had taken up the habit of lounging around in Tim's chair; Hersh, after calling Abby a "psychotic bitch", had been fired and punched in the face by Gibbs. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, she enjoyed sitting here, remembering Tim.

Tony, on the other hand, had a growing concern for their forensic scientist. It just didn't seem healthy to let her immerse herself in Tim's memory so intensely. She just wouldn't let him go. She'd taped a picture of him up on her computer, that way she'd "always have him around in her lab", and she barely smiled anymore, let alone laughed.

But what was really bothering Tony, was the fact that she was actually acting more Goth than she dressed. Of course, she still wore McGee's shirts to work. She'd gone back to his apartment the day after he'd visited with her, and she had raided his closet before his family could come to claim Tim's possessions. She'd also taken his typewriter.

Gibbs had noticed the change as well. The girl was like his daughter, and it hurt to see her suffer so much. But he was softer with her than he had been with Tim. He admitted that he had been tough- unnecessarily so- and that it was probably not a very proactive thing to do. But Gibbs was more worried about getting Tim to move on with his life. Maybe if he thought they didn't care, he'd finally give up and live his new life.

He doubted it, though.

That afternoon, everybody found out about something they had all been trying to push from their minds.

Tony had first seen it as he was looking through the aisles of a Wal-Mart. Ziva had seen it in a local shop's window, with a sign hanging above it. Gibbs had read about it in the newspaper, as had Ducky. Palmer had seen it on the internet.

But nobody had the guts to tell Abby. Ziva finally grew tired of keeping things from her, so she gave in and bought it. She wrapped it in black paper with a red ribbon, and placed it on her desk before Abby came in the morning. It wasn't so much a present as a reminder.

They all knew she had found it when she didn't come up for her lunch break. She was most likely in her lab, just sitting there, trying to get the nerve to open the book. _Rock Hollow_ had been published.

* * *

No, no, _no_!

It was all wrong! Nobody was ever supposed to read this. She had shredded that copy hadn't she? But he'd probably already turned it in before he even died. . . But nobody was supposed to know! She had tried so hard to keep anyone from finding out how she broke his heart. And now, it was sitting there in her lap, shiny and new.

She looked at the cover. It was black, with a fuzzy grey front. It looked like there was a shadow in the back-round. Cracking open the cover, she found a blurry picture on the front page. It was a photo of her.

He'd put a picture of her in his book . . . he was so sweet.

She decided to read his book one last time. Then she would give it to Gibbs, he could do with it whatever he wanted. She didn't need it. Besides, there was nothing else she could do to heal her heart.

* * *

Tony was pacing in the bullpen. Ziva was poring over a cold-case file, ignoring him spectacularly. She was completely engrossed . . . too engrossed . . .

Tony pulled the folder out of her hands, finding a copy of Tim's book in her lap.

"God, Ziva, not you, too!" he yelled. She didn't look away from the pages when she replied.

"I just would like to know what he thought about us, Tony, it is not a crime,"

"But it's not _healthy_, Ziva!"

"I know he is dead, Tony," she said softly. "Reading his last book does not mean that is going to change."

Tony nodded dumbly. He was sill hurting over the fact that his Probie had passed before him. He had always counted on having him there, to joke around with. A few moments of silence passed before either said anything else.

"Hey, Z?"

"Yes?"

"Do you mind if I read over your shoulder?"

"Go ahead, Tony. It helps to read his last words."

* * *

"There's nothing that I can do for him, Gibbs; the rules clearly state-"

"I don't give a damn about the rules!" he yelled into the phone. "I don't know how you work over there at Witness protection, but let me be very clear. McGee needs to be McGee again! NOW!"

"We are not going to throw away a perfectly good cover for nothing! Nobody has discovered his true identity, nobody had filed complaints, he is not being a problem to us!" the woman argued.

"Well I have a problem with a good Agent being hidden from nothing!" he roared.

A knock on the door interrupted his argument.

"I'll call you back, Jim, and you better figure this out." He closed the cell. "Come on in."

An extremely pale Abby walked into the room. Gibbs ran to her, but she raised her hand, and placed _Rock Hollow _into his arms with trembling hands.

"Timmy's alive, Gibbs." She whispered, terrified.

Then she passed out.


	16. Freak on A Leash

"Freak on a Leash"

Tim sat in his desk chair, head in his hands. His life as Aiden was seriously getting old, and fast. Everyday, he went into the office, his colleagues said hello, and he got to work. There was nobody teasing him, there was nobody to slap him on the back of the head. There were no bad guys, unless you counted the rival companies. And they weren't very hard to outsmart. All you had to do was hack into their program and change their sales to very high prices. And he didn't need even a _sip_ of Caf-Pow to hack into their feeble network.

He had been to M.I.T. and Johns Hopkins, and now he was a manager at a stupid computer networking store? If this was all he was destined for, he might as well curl up and die already. But before he did, he'd see Abby one last time. He'd tell her he was sorry for blowing it like an idiot.

Angrily, he got up and slammed the door shut. His neighbors were getting kind of spooked, but they had good reason. Ever since his first Christmas alone, he'd taken to listening to all of Abby's old music, just as she liked it: loud. He blared the music until he realized that his poor elderly neighbor Ms. Evans probably didn't appreciate the "rumbles" as she called it. So he had taken to playing his music alone in his study. But tonight, even Abby's metal music wasn't helping. His head was buzzing, and nothing would shut it up.

He walked downstairs, swearing silently as he tripped on the last step. He laid there on the floor for a moment, collecting his bearings, before getting up. He limped to his kitchen, his toe throbbing.

Reaching under his sink, he pulled out a bottle of extremely strong bourbon. He usually didn't drink, and when he did it was usually only a sip of beer, but tonight he couldn't deal with his thoughts. The ghosts were flying behind his eyes, and he wanted out. He poured himself a shot, then another and another. He lost count soon thereafter.

Now, Timothy McGee had only been tipsy two other times in his entire life. The first when he was in college, and the second after an extremely trying case Tony had convinced him to "loosen up" and order a stronger drink. But this time was different. He wasn't getting tipsy, he was getting drunk. He wanted to forget everything, from the Johnson case to his own name. He wanted to not remember what he did that night, to wake up in the laundry room clinging to an empty bottle.

For the first time, Tim McGee wanted a break from life.

And it scared him.

He ditched the shot glass, and brought the bottle into his living room. He sunk into the wine-colored couch, leaning his head against the soft fabric. He fumbled around for his stereo remote, turning the music down until it was almost silent. Now it was simply whispers in the back-round.

His thoughts started turning to music. He had often wondered how people got inspiration for songs, and now he thought he knew the answer. It all came down to one thing; living through pain.

The alcohol started kicking in around this point.

_Maybe I should write a song,_ he thought. Just jot down all the pain he had been forced through the past few months. He could buy a keyboard and put a tune to it and become famous as Aiden Holland, the rock star. And Abby would fall in love with him from afar, and they would get married and live happily ever after.

Content with his drunken logic, he fell into an uneasy, ghostly slumber.

* * *

He woke up the next morning to a clock reading 2:37PM and a disgusting taste in his mouth. An empty bottle was on the floor, and a stain next to it hinted that he might have dropped it sometime last night. Although, he didn't exactly remember the past night. At least it was a Saturday, and he had the day off to do whatever he pleased.

Although his choices were pretty slim. He could either go to work anyway, go visit his family, and mope around at home. Spectacular.

He picked up his cell off of the floor and dialed in his sister's number.

"Hello?" His sister picked up on the first ring

"Hey, Sarah," he said.

"Tim? Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I'm just a little lonely. What are you up to?"

He heard her sigh heavily.

"Tim, you can't keep doing this," she said gently.

"Do what?"

"Call me whenever you get depressed. You need to get out some, make some friends. I know you loved your old life, but you just need to accept that it's over and move on, ok?"

"But what if I don't want to, Sarah?" he said quietly.

"Then I guess you've got a problem, Tim. You can't live in the past,"

"Sorry, Sarah."

"It's ok, just think next time, alright? Love you."

"Love you, too. Bye."

How unbelievable pitiful. Even his own sister was getting tired of him.

Who else was left?

* * *

**Author's note: I've recieved so much feedback, and it's been so helpful! Thank you to every single person who has commented on this story, it means the world to me! +  
****And I promise that all will be explained, so worry not:)**


	17. Meant To Live

"Meant To Live"

She was lying on a cold, hard surface. She could feel someone fanning her face, and heard voices talking softly.

"Come on, she's been out for awhile,"

"Oh, she's coming around right now, Jethro, she'll be perfectly fine!"

"You better be right, Duck. Because she has some explaining to do,"

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, taking in her surroundings. She was lying on an Autopsy table, surrounded by the entire team. She lifted herself into a sitting position with a little help from Tony, and noticed that four pairs of eyes were scrutinizing her every move. Taking a breath, she repeated her confession.

"Timmy's alive,"

Nobody said anything, causing her to grow anxious.

"It's true! I have proof, Gibbs, I have proof!"

They all turned to look at their boss. He was like stone; if they didn't know better, they'd say he looked afraid. But the harsh glint in his eyes told him otherwise.

"McGee's dead, Abs," he said softly.

Abby's eyes grew hard.

"Is not, Gibbs. I'll prove it to you!" she cried. She hopped off the table, running to the elevator. They followed her to her lab, both curious and worried. She ran to where she had been reading, and picked up the book. She thrust it into Gibbs' hands.

"it's all in there, Gibbs," she said, as Tony stepped forward.

"What do you mean, Abs?" he muttered.

"Remember how I read his draft that was in his apartment? It was dated the day before he crashed. But that-" she pointed to the book. "Has a different ending!"

* * *

**Earlier**

She was reading the book at lightning speed, and thought she had merely misread the sentence. But then she reread it. There; there it was . . .

_"We can't get married, Toby," Amy whispered. "We're all wrong for each other,"_

_But he refused to believe it. Sure, Amy was tough on the outside, but he knew that she could love more passionately than any other woman on the face of the planet. In two fluid steps, he enveloped her in his arms. He expected her to resist, but she didn't._

_"Don't do this, Amy," he whispered into her hair. "Don't say goodbye again. I love you too much to let you do this; I know that you love me, too. Don't say goodbye, not again,"_

_He kissed her softly on the lips. It was her decision now._

Oh, God, he was alive! He must have heard her speech at the funeral . . . And he loved her. He forgave her. She had to find him, to apologize. To make sure he still loved her. To tell him that she loved him, too.

* * *

Tom sat quietly in his desk chair, spinning back and forth. He thought about all the times Abby had stole into the bullpen to spin around in his chair. He had always thought it was silly, but he missed it now.

Hell, he missed everything about her, from the cute pigtails she had, to the gunpowder perfume that stained his pillow two years ago . . . His house smelled like cedar and FeBreeze. It was too clean, too un-Abby. And everything reminded him or her. The people at his job had asked him if he was married, and he simply told them that he wasn't interested in having a relationship at the moment. Little did they know that he was in love.

He had even rewritten the end of his book. Reading the painful end to their relationship wouldn't exactly go good with his fans, and it hurt his too much anyway. So he'd sat down and wrote his heart out.

He'd found an old picture of Abby in his wallet, and he photo shopped it before inserting it into his book. The cover was simply black with a blurry background and white letters.

All he wanted was to see her one last time, to hear her laugh and see her smile. Although he didn't want to admit it, he was falling into a serious depression, and was failing miserably at clawing his way out. He didn't know how to help himself.

His self-destructive thoughts were interrupted by the soft jazz song spilling out of his cell phone.

"Aiden here," he said sadly.

"H-hey Timmy,"

Oh, God.

"Abby?"


	18. What Have You Done?

"What Have You Done?"

His voice was the same; deep, curious, warm. But the way he spoke was much different. His voice used to flow out like honey, the words easily said. Now, it was pained, like he was being forced to talk. Like he was alone in the world. That made a few tears pop out. She took a quick breath, praying he wouldn't notice. But he did.

"No, no, don't cry, alright? Everything's gonna be okay. Please- don't cry because of me,"

The concern in his voice just made her cry harder. She could hear him shushing her softly, but she could tell that his breathing was ragged as well. She wondered if this was as hard for him as it was for her. On the other line, he was wondering the same thing.

Tim was finding it harder and harder to breathe normally, and thoughts were flying through his brain at the speed of sound. How had Abby found him? This was supposed to be his "safe" phone, away from anybody that knew him before; it wasn't even listed in the phone book. He checked the caller id. Gibbs' house number. Of course.

"Tim?" her voice interrupted his anger. "Is- Is it really you?" It seemed impossible to her. Her Timmy, in the Witness Protection Program? And she hadn't figured it out? So was this why Sarah had been so secretive, and why her sadness seemed more directed at Abby? Could he really be alive?

"Abs, put Gibbs on the line. I'm not letting you get in any more trouble, not because of me,"

She didn't want to oblige, but she did. He heard her click on the speaker phone.

"McGee?" came the voice. Tim broke.

"What the hell, Gibbs?" he yelled. "You've spent the last few weeks telling me all this bullshit about being careful that nobody finds out about me, that it's not safe; Then you drag Abby into this? I'm sitting here, alone in this too-big house, trying to convince myself not to blow my own brains out, and now seemed like a good time to let the love of my life remind me that I can never go back to being happy again? What the hell kind of torture are you trying to put me through, Gibbs?!"

Gibbs hadn't expected that kind of response from McGee. He thought that he'd be overjoyed at hearing Abby's voice again . . . but he was too busy trying to protect her from himself. Abby's eyes screamed in pain, which brought him back to reality.

"McGee, I didn't mean to-"

"I don't give a shit about your intentions, Gibbs. The stuttering Probie is long gone, alright? That trigger was pulled a long time ago-"

"McGee!" Gibbs cared about the agent, but he would be damned if he let McGee convince himself to pull that trigger. Especially since he had been the one to give him the gun.

"What." It wasn't even a question.

"I'm driving Abby over there. If you really want her to be the one to find your body, then go ahead. But don't expect anybody to feel bad for you; Tony would be really pissed if you killed yourself,"

Tim sighed angrily.

"You know I don't want to kill myself, Gibbs. What I want is _out_; out of this sorry excuse of a life, out of lying here, thinking about how I'll never see Tony or Ziva or my Abby ever again. You wanna know what I really want? My _life _back,"

He hung up.

* * *

Gibbs slowly hit the power button. Tim had changed. His loyal, smart, happy Probie truly had died; all that was left was the broken shell. He looked to Abby; she was sitting in the only chair, next to his boat. She was covering her mouth, tears streaming, trying not to hyperventilate. Her cheeks were glistening.

Three things he had said had her tearing herself up.

First, he had cussed at Gibbs. He'd said he had been trying not to blow his own head off. He'd made it clear that he thought Gibbs was being hypocritical by letting Abby in on the secret after months of not being able to say anything himself.

Second, he'd said that the "stuttering Probie was dead". And it did seem that way. She was just worried that her Timmy had been changed beyond help. He worried that he'd been scarred too deeply to recover.

But the third, and the most important, was that he had called her the love of his life. He really did love her . . . she had secretly hoped it was true, but to hear it come from his mouth was completely different. It was suddenly painfully obvious- how had she not seen it? She needed to see him, to tell him how she felt; that she didn't care if he'd changed.

Gibbs had been watching her closely. Her expression had switched back and forth from pain, to horror, to relief, to love, then back again and again. He knew that he needed to get her over there, and soon.

"We better hurry, Abs. I'll drive you,"

She looked up, taking the keys from his hand.

"Let me, Gibbs. I need to do this myself,"

So he led her to the car, silently praying for the first time since Shannon and Kelly's death.


	19. Chasing Pavements and Vindicated

"Chasing Pavements"

He paced the room, footsteps quiet on the carpet. His life, which had been strained already, was currently threatening to snap right in front of him. How could Gibbs do this to him, torment him like this with someone he could never have? It was so cruel . . . how many months had it been? How many months had he been trapped here, alone, dreaming about returning to his normal life, returning to Abby, being home again? And yet now that he had the chance to see her, he was scared silly.

How could he face her? She would be unbelievably angry with him for lying to her, for not telling her he was alive. She would feel so betrayed, like he didn't even care about her . . . but how had she even found out? Why had Gibbs sold him out so horribly?

He couldn't take it. How could he face her, after never telling her the truth? She probably hated him, with good reason. Hell, he probably hated himself enough for the both of them.

A quick drat of knocks told him he was no longer alone. He peeked through the peephole, coming face-to-face with a sparkling green eye. Suddenly, it disappeared, revealing Gibbs' car in the back-round . . . with no Gibbs. Oh, God, she was going to kill him for good. No forensic evidence. He prepared himself, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Nothing. But then, he wasn't very surprised. _She hates you, remember?_ He thought. A million possibilities flew through his brain as he walked back into the living room. He started to sit down on the couch, but there was somebody on it. Well, maybe she forgave him after all.

"Picked the lock." She said quietly. "T-timmy? Is it really you?"

He looked nothing like her Tim. His hair was as black as hers, and his eyes weren't the beautiful green she remembered. But his smile was the same.

He pulled her off the couch and into his arms in one fluid movement. As he let her go, she saw how his eyes were shining. Maybe he forgave her after all.

Without warning, she flung herself back into his arms, knocking him over with the force. He held her tightly, and she knew it was him. The love with which he held her proved said as much.

They laid there for a few moments before retreating back onto the couch, and sat staring at the other for a few moments before talking. She took a deep breath.

"You look so different," she whispered.

He smiled, and peeled off the contacts. When she saw the clover eyes, all her worry melted away. Her Timmy was here, and he wasn't leaving her.

"I'm so sorry, Abby," he said. His voice was husky with the tears he was holding back. "Is there any way that you can forgive me?"

Her eyes were astonished. "For _what_?"

"For lying to you! For not telling you that I'm alive, for letting you think that I was dead this whole time. For not telling those Witness Protection people to stick it and knock down your door and tell you that I lo-" he stopped abruptly.

"Love me?" she whispered.

"Yes," he said, his voice deep. "Because I do- more than you can ever imagine." Tears spilled over his green eyes.

"Oh, Tim," she held him for a few moments. Then, slowly but surely, she kissed him softly on the mouth. "I love you, too, Tim. More than _you_ could ever imagine. And I'm not going to let you get away from me ever again, you hear me?"

He smiled before kissing her.

"You won't have to worry about that, Abs. I'm not going anywhere"

She smiled back, her face lighting up the room. She wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

She woke in his arms. Falling in and out of reality, they had told each other of their lives without the other. Every time she had gotten close to crying again, he had quelled her fears with a kiss. She didn't worry anymore.

Abby looked at the man she loved so much. When he was asleep, he had this peace around him. He was so beautiful. She nestled back into his embrace before peacefully nodding back into her dreams . . .

And he felt her rustling in her sleep. Her eyes were darting back and forth behind her lids. She was so caught up in her dreams; he didn't have the heart to wake her up. He kissed her on the forehead before climbing out of the bed.

He tiptoes across the hall, starting the water. He plucked a bow from under his bathroom cabinet, brushing dust off the ancient purchase. Even if she accepted his black hair, he was ready to be Tim McGee again.

After the long process was over, he dressed in a dark green tee-shirt and jeans. He sat at his desk and watched Abby sleep for awhile before pulling out his cell phone. Predictably, it went straight to voicemail.

"Thank you, Gibbs." He said before hanging up.

* * *

"Vindicated"

Tony walked into the bullpen with Ziva. They had grown closer the past months, and they had grown to riding to work together. They froze when they saw who was in the bullpen.

Abby and Gibbs . . . _laughing_?

Tony was baffled. She hadn't laughed in months. And after her delusion about Tim being alive, he couldn't why she would even be _smiling_. What was going on? Ziva was the one to come right out and ask. Abby simple looked at Gibbs, who gave a rare smile.

"Follow me, you two. There's something that Abby and I have to tell you," They silently obliged. Tony & Ziva were placed into an interrogation room. They talked amongst themselves for a while before Gibbs came in.

"There has been a secret in this agency. Abby just found out last night. It's about time I told you." he gave another rare smile. Tony caught his breath. They couldn't mean . . . Could they?

The door opened with a click. Abby, with a bright smile, said, "Tony, Ziva, meet Timothy McGee,"

Tim entered, with a sheepish grin, holding Abby's hand. Tony froze, jaw dropped. Ziva's eyes were the size of dinner plates. Gibbs calmly explained the situation, then the moment of silence fell.

Suddenly, Ziva popped up and all but tackled him.

"You are alive! You are here, you are back!" she was yelling, hugging him like Abby usually did.

And if the sudden physical affection wasn't enough of a surprise to Gibbs, Tony had to add to it by getting up and hugging the man himself.

"It's good to have you back, Tim," Tony said. "You have no idea how much you were missed."

Gibbs left them to catch up, another smile playing on his lips.

* * *

Two hours passed quickly. The rest of the building was called to an unofficial assembly of sorts, and the situation was explained. They were all astonished, but nonetheless, very happy.

"So, McGee, what's up with you and our lovely forensic Goth?" Tony asked, waggling his eyebrows. And though he tried to play it off as nothing, Tony noticed when Tim's face lit up. He whispered into Tony's ear. He gasped, but grinned a coy smile.

"Damn, Probie,"

"I thought you'd say that," Tim chuckled.

"Good luck, McGee."

"Thanks. I'll need it!"


	20. Have A Little Faith In Me

"Have A Little Faith In Me"

Abby sighed contentedly. She was lying in Tim's arms, her favorite pastime. They were at her apartment, watching a favorite movie of hers; The Princess Bride. He was stroking her hair as she played with the fingers on his other hand. She noticed it shaking.

"Tim, are you alright?" she asked, alarmed.

"I'm fine, Abs, I'm-"

"Lying," she cut in. "What's wrong?"

She pulled herself out of his embrace and sat on the couch cross-legged. She searched his face for a problem. He smiled her favorite smile, his eyes bright.

"I'm just a bit nervous, Abs," he admitted. Her eyebrows shot up.

"What's there to be nervous about, Tim?"

He sighed deeply, standing up. He walked over to her television, and pressed the pause button on the black DVD player. Westly and Buttercup would have to wait. He took a deep breath before speaking.

"Do you love me, Abby?"

She smiled, loving light filling her eyes. She had been worried that something was wrong with him, but he was just thinking too hard. As usual.

"Of course I do, Timmy. More than anything in the world." She said warmly. She was even a little surprised that he even had to ask, as many times as she had told him.

"Good," he smiled, inhaling deeply.

Then he sank to his knee.

Abby gasped, eyes growing larger than normal. She all but stopped breathing. She frantically felt around for Bert, who announced his arrival, and then held him tightly. He smiled as he pulled a wine-colored velvet case out of his sweatpants pocket.

"Abigail Scuito." He said softly. "I love you more than life itself. You are my entire world, from the first moment I heard your voice I knew that I was going to fall in love with you. Nobody else on the planet can talk geek with me and down such immeasurable amounts of caffeine without crashing. And you never crash; you have this kind of light around you that just draws people in. You also give the absolute best hugs ever. I just want to be around to get them every day. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, and forever afterwards." He took that last deep breath, and flicked the case open.

"Abs, will you marry me?" his eyes shined.

Taking the first breath she had in over a minute, she picked up the case with trembling hands. She stared at it for a few moments, ridiculous thoughts running through her head.

_This is the most beautiful ring I've ever seen in my entire life._

_I can't believe he proposed when I'm wearing my PJ's._

_I can't believe he proposed _period.

_I can't believe he could hide this in his pocket all night without me knowing!_

_Holy crap- I can't believe his sweats have pockets!_

_What would Gibbs say?_

_What would Tony say?_

_What would Ziva say?_

_What would Kate say?_

_I wonder if we are still gonna watch the movie after this._

_Why didn't I wear something nicer?!_

About this time, she looked back to Tim, who had been patiently waiting on his knee. Finally, the grin cracked her face in two as she screamed.

"YES!" She propelled herself off the couch and knocked him to the floor, hugging him so hard he worried a rib might break. She kissed his softly, knowing she was doing the right thing.

"I love you Abby," he whispered.

"I love you more," whispered back.

* * *

Gibbs knew that Abby was in that morning by the yells of surprise that were emitting from the lower floors. When Tim had first asked Gibbs' permission for Abby's hand, he had reflexively slapped him on the back of the head before exclaiming, "About time, McGee!"

Now, two days after she had accepted, Tim was getting ready to tell the rest of the team. Abby was currently down in Autopsy, showing Ducky and Jimmy her ring. She had been ecstatic about the ring that Tim had bought her. It was dark, smoky silver that wrapped it's way around a bright red ruby, with small onyx and diamond stones placed intricately around it.

Tony and Ziva walked out of the elevator, bickering as usual. Tim's face paled as they drew closer. Gibbs smiled, and decided to help out. He cleared his throat, which shut them up.

"What's up, Boss?"

"McGee's got something to say, DiNozzo. So pay attention,"

"Sup, Probster?" he said. Even Ziva looked curious.

"Uh, well . . . you see, what's going on . . . the thing is-"

"Spit it out, McGeek!" Tony chuckled.

As Tim stumbled over his words, Abby materialized by his side. Tony's smile fell.

"Oh, God, you knocked up Abby!"

The hard smack on the back of his head and Tim's scarlet cheeks told him he was wrong. Abby kept wiggling her left hand, but Ziva was the only one who noticed.

"Oh, I understand, McGee," She giggled. Tony glared at her.

"What? What's going on?"

Gibbs laughed. "Go on and tell him, Tim. Clueless here might explode,"

Tim inhaled. "Abby and I are engaged,"

Tony froze for a moment, then pulled Tim into a bone-crushing hug.

"McGROOM!" He bellowed.

Gibbs chuckled, then walked off to refill on coffee. Ziva was looking at Abby's ring.

"It's stunning, Abby," she said.

Abby glowed. "He picked out, just for me!"

As the two were giggling, Tony turned to Tim, who was sitting in his chair.

"Got a date set yet?" he asked.

"October 31."

"Halloween?"

"Yeah . . . Abby's idea," he admitted. Tony smirked.

"Yeah, that sounds like Abby,"

Hands covered his eyesight, and she kissed him upside-down.

"Rule 12 breaking, Boss!" Tony called.

Gibbs reappeared from down the hall, cup in hand. He sat at his desk, grinning.

"Rule 12 is against dating a coworker, DiNozzo," he said. "Not falling in love with one,"

Tim and Abby smiled at each other brightly.

Even if there _had_ been a rule against that, they all knew that those two would have broken it anyway.

* * *

**Author's Note;  
Well, that's it! I hope you enjoyed it, and reviews would be the icing on my imaginary little cake here:)  
****I've got tons of other little plot bunnies stuck in my head, so I'll most likely have a new story up and running within the month!+  
And thanks to all of the AMAZING reviews that I've gotten from you guys; it's so absolutely amazing to me that you like my writing, so I just want to say thank you so much!  
****All ya'lls feedback has just made my day so much brighter! I hope to be reading tons of new McGeeness from you all!  
God Bless, you guys! :)**


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